


How the Batman Stole Christmas

by DuoHimura



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Parody, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 10:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17744570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuoHimura/pseuds/DuoHimura
Summary: Every villain in Gotham liked stealing a lot...But the Batman, who lived in a cave below Gotham, did NOT!





	How the Batman Stole Christmas

 

How the Batman Stole Christmas

as told by the Joker (Clown Prince of Crime)

  
  
Every villain in Gotham liked stealing a lot...

But the Batman, who lived in a cave below Gotham, did NOT!

The Batman _hates_ stealing, and murder, and stalking,

and arson, and battery, and even jay-walking.

He loathes it when people take things that aren't theirs.

Oh, please, don't ask why. I mean, really, who cares?

 

Maybe drinking black coffee all night makes him edgy.

Or maybe his tights always give him a wedgie.

But I think the likeliest reason of all,

Is his parents were murdered when he was still small.

 

But whatever the reason, his folks or his tights,

He puts on a Bat-suit and goes looking for fights.

Or stays in his cave with his Bat-brain computing

How to stop every burglary, mugging, and looting.

For he knew every villain in Gotham before

Was even now dreaming of a big Christmas score.

 

“And they're arming their henchmen!” he snarled with a grunt.

“Tomorrow is Christmas. They're planning some stunt.”

Yes, the villains of Gotham had all disappeared

from the streets of the city as Christmas Eve neared.

They were working together—or, at least, something near it,

As though all the crooks had the holiday spirit.

Who could orchestrate such an elaborate scheme,

To get all Gotham's criminals on the same team?

If crime was a furnace, then he was its stoker.

That clown prince of crime! Yours truly, the Joker!

 

Batman paced, with his bat-fingers making a fist.

“Arresting that monster is my whole to-do list.”

For tomorrow, he knew, with the town unattended,

The thieves would run loose, unless apprehended.

They'd break into buildings, they'd pilfer from shops.

And if help should arrive? Then they'd fight with the cops.

Endangering Gotham's brave daughters and sons

With chemical weapons and terrible puns.

And _then!_ Oh, the guns! Oh, the Guns! Guns! Guns! Guns!

That's _one_ thing he hated! The GUNS! GUNS! GUNS! GUNS!

 

Then the henchmen would all round up items to steal.

And they'd steal! _And they'd steal!_ And they'd STEAL! STEAL! STEAL! STEAL!

They'd steal from the rich, and they'd steal from the poor,

Which was something Batman couldn't stand anymore.

They'd steal baubles and trinkets, they'd pilfer rare art,

And diamonds and rubies and pearls, for a start.

Then they'd rob fancy balls, taking everyone's wallets,

And their purses, and watches, and whatchamacallits.

From Star Labs they would steal a rare crystalline lens,

And they'd stick up the bank, just to rip off the pens.

 

And THEN they'd do something he liked least of all!

Every henchman at large, the tall and the small,

Everyone who was part of this evil riff-raff,

Would sit round in their lairs, and they'd all start to laugh.

They'd laugh! _And they'd laugh!_ And they'd LAUGH! LAUGH! LAUGH! LAUGH!

And the more Batman thought of this sinister laugh,

The more Batman thought, “This is too much by half!

Each year this superstitious and cowardly lot

Make Christmas a nightmare! This year they will not!

Why for e̤̱̠̞̬̿̽̊̅͠ĭ̛̟͖͕̗̪̬͑͘͞g̴͈̫̻̣̗̭̈́̌̾̄͒̓̈͝h̵̰̻̭̙͍͚̍̈́͗̿͛ṫ̷̳̖͉̙͒͢͝ÿ̷̦͍̫͈̩͎́̄̅̀͆̕̕͝-̸̢̛͔̤͕̺̘̇̒̆͂͡î̺̝̱̳̻̱̐͋̑͐͢͝͡s̸̢̧̘̥͉̟̺̗̲̽͋̂̌̅̉ͅh̸͕͍̫̙͕̝͖̗̀̈́̈́̏͜ years we've put up with it now

I must stop this crime wave from coming! But HOW?”

 

Then he got an idea! A batty idea!

 

“ _The same Batty idea that he gets every ye-ah?”_

 

“ _Yes, thank you Harley.”_

 

'“I know just what to do!” said the grumpy old Bat.

“I'll find Joker's lair and catch him BEFORE that.”

Then he smirked to himself. “What a great Batman trick!”

And he got on the Bat-phone to call his sidekick.

“Robin, I've cracked it,” he said to the mic.

“I'll go catch the Joker _before_ he can strike.”

 

“He won't see it coming,” the Boy Wonder said.

“Sounds like you've got it covered. I'm going to bed.”

 

“All I need is an address.” Batman looked around.

But since hideouts are _hidden_ , there was none to be found.

Did that stop him? No! He just launched his Bat-drones.

And he found Joker's hideout by hacking everyone's phones.

 

Then he loaded his Bat-mobile, shifted it out of park,

When his progress was stopped by a “Can I come?” bark.

Ace, the Bat-hound, ran up with his leash and he whined.

But since Ace is useless, he got left behind.

 

Then Batman gave a smile, which was mostly a frown,

And he raced to where Joker was hiding downtown.

In no time at all he had reached Joker's lair:

A decrepit old factory where they used to make hair,

With a hidden back entrance that led through the sewer,

And was guarded by seventeen guards and no fewer.

 

This one stumped the Batman, that creature of night.

He liked to sneak in before starting a fight.

Then he had an idea, and he disrobed and said,

“If I can't dodge the guards, I'll become one instead!”

He grabbed an old coat and a scarf from the trash,

Added several fake scars and a tacky mustache,

And then! With the diction and tone of a Frenchman,

He laughed, “Oh ho ho! I look just like Le Henchman!”'

 

“ _Le Henchman? Really, Mr. J?”_

 

“ _Harley! If I’ve told you once I've told you a thousand times, never interrupt me when I'm on a roll!”_

 

“ _I'm only sayin’ I don't remember Bat-brain coming in here soundin’ like some sorta Pierre Depardieu.”_

 

“ _It's called poetic license! Besides, these anapests aren't going to tetramete themselves!”_

 

“ _Fine. But it shoulda’ been 'une acolyte,' Dr._ Loose _…”_

 

Batman crawled through the sewer, which I hardly need mention,

He fought a gator or something, just to keep up the tension.

When he got to the guards, he told slick, Batman-lies.

He roughed up his voice and said, “I'm one of youse guys.”

And the guards let him in! Those traitorous dolts!

I ought to give them a beating! Or 3 million volts!

They ought to be shanghaied for their lack of discretion--

 

“ _I think, Mr. J, you've gone on a digression.”_

 

“ _Oh, ha-ha. ...Show off.”_

 

Batman slipped past the guards and entered the lair.

The rooms were all silent. Dust covered the hair.

Great vats of wig dye were toxically bubbling,

And as Batman crept past them, he saw something troubling:

Though the robbers were all off enjoying their naps

They had covered the door to the armory with traps!

To get past them all would require his head.

But that sounded hard, so he looked up instead,

And crept in through the vent, though the drop was quite steep.

For, if creeping is possible, Bats gonna creep.

 

He got stuck only once, his scarf getting caught,

And he might have been strangled! But sadly was not.

No, he slithered right in like a thief in the night,

Dropped into the room and he turned to the right,

Where spare gun magazines were all stacked span and spick.

“These bullets,” he said, “are the first things I'll nick.”

 

Then he prowled and prounced, with his Bat-eyes aglow,

All about the whole room, and took ALL the ammo!

And not just the bullets! But the guns and knives, too!

The bombs! The brass knuckles! The exploding kazoo!

And he stuffed them in sacks. Then the Bat, with a grin,

Staggered down to the drain pipe and tossed them all in.

 

Then he flapped to the chemical store-room, covertly,

Took Joker gas cans and refilled them inertly.

He emptied the room in a manner most placid.

Why, that bore even neutralized all of their acid!

 

Then he crept to the garage and jammed all the cranks.

“And now,” Batman said, “I'll dismantle the tanks!”

It was all going smoothly, or so Batman thought.

When he heard a sweet voice, like an angel's, but not.

“Hey what’s the idea?” demanded the caller,

So he spun around fast and that's when he saw her.

In her red and black PJs, there stood Harley Quinn,

Who'd got out of bed for a fresh cup of gin.

“Why are you destroying Mr. J's clown-faced tank?

He needs it to murder some folks for his prank.”

 

But that Batman, damn him, was so wily and sly

He just opened his mouth and out came a lie.

 

“It's an order from Joker,” the fake henchman lied.

“There's a gun on this tank that won't shoot out one side.

So I'm pulling it open just like the boss said.

He said 'fix it tonight, or tomorrow you're dead.'”

 

All this Batman lied, his manner quite wooden.

But Harley Quinn nodded. “That _does_ sound like my puddin'.”

 

And she left him to work. He went back to his task,

Feeling the pocket where he'd hidden his mask.

And as he dismantled he made such a clamor,

He didn't hear Harley approach with her hammer.

She hit him just once on the back of his head,

And he fell to the ground as if he were dead.

 

And the moment the Batman was out like a light

We got out the chains and we chained him up tight.

Fifty feet up or more! To the top of the room,

We hoisted him so he could fall to his doom

Into the vats full of bubbling hair dye.

And he calls himself Batman! Too bad he can't fly!

 

And what happened then? Well, in Gotham they say,

Joker pried up the floorboards where he'd stashed away

A whole secret armory! With weapons galore!

To terrorize Gotham—but wait! There's still more!

Toy soldiers and airplanes and big balls of glass,

Filled to the brim with fresh Joker gas.

In moments the henchmen were armed to the teeth,

And the tank was festooned with a big Christmas wreath.

 

“Too bad for old Gotham!” The Joker was humming,

“They're finding out now that no Batman is coming!”

On every last airwave they're hearing our tale,

Their fingers are shaking! Their faces are pale!

All nervously waiting, with tears in their eyes,

For the sound of their hero's untimely demise.

That’s a sound that I’ve waited a long time to hear.

So let’s get this show started! Harley, my dear?"

 

_“Your switch, Mr. J.”_

 

_“Why, thank you.”_

 

Holding the switch that would give him a dip,

Joker turned to the Batman with one final quip.

“I think green hair will suit you! Let's give it a try!”

And then he, HE HIMSELF! Batman drowned in the dye!

Ahahahahahahahaha—!”

 

“ _When, into their daydreams of murder and plunder_

_Who should intrude? But the rhyming Boy Wonder!”_

 

“ _What?” said the Joker, his head darting 'round,_

_As the criminal searched for the source of the sound._

 

“ _I'm in your base, hacking your frequency, clown!”_

_Robin called from the rafters._

 

_Joker snarled, “Shoot him down!”_

 

_More quickly than drunkards his henchmen they came._

_And he screamed and he shouted and called them by name:_

“ _Now Ugly! Now Stupid! Now Stoneface! Now Tiny!_

_On Slugger! On Killer! On Smelly and Whiny!_

_Shoot the top of the roof! Shoot the top of the wall!_

_Now blast away! Blast away! Blast away all!”_

 

_Bullets flew through the air! One nicked Robin's cape._

_But he'd bought enough time to help Batman—_

 

“ _Oh_ bother— _” said Joker, and he turned, and he ran,_

_Away from the tattered remains of his plan._

_When suddenly something knocked him to the ground—_

_But it wasn't Batman! It was Ace, the Bat Hound!_

 

_His chin hit the floor. His teeth gave a clack._

_Ace pinned him down, standing on top of his back._

_As Joker lay dazed, a boot fell by his head,_

_and he gulped, knowing now he had something to dread._

 

“ _Batman!” Joker said. “You can take a joke, right?”_

 

“ _That's the first funny thing that you've said this whole night._

_Don't call my dog useless, you miserable wretch.”_

 

“ _Hey! What are you doing?”_

 

_Batman smiled. “Ace, fetch!”_

 

* * *

 

 

“With that, Batman hurled Joker halfway to France.

Then Ace ran up and bit him on the seat of his—”

 

“ _Robin, turn that thing off. There's more work to do.”_

 

“ _Just letting the people know how things worked out. Come on, Batman, how about a few words for your adoring public? Hey! Hey wait a second! Um... well, folks, that's dedication for you. I guess. Um... Ah, okay! I know how to end this._

 

But I heard him exclaim as he swung out of sight,

Merry Christmas, dear Gotham, from your watchful Dark Knight.”

 

“ _Robin!”_

 

“ _Coming, coming!”_

 


End file.
